Flame of Fury

by Sharon Green

  Just how long his lips held hers she didn't know, but she was immediately aware of it when they released her. He had put her down flat on the bed and his big hands lowered the bodice of her nightgown to her waist, and then he was kneeling over her with his mouth to her breast. Rianne groaned and tried to escape what was being done, but those hands came to her shoulders and held her in place. With her nightgown straps keeping her arms from lifting very far, she had no choice but to accept what he was giving.

  Until, that is, his hands left her shoulders to grasp her thighs. She was so lost in the swirling fog of burning need that she hadn't known her knees had been spread, and that now the man who was her husband knelt between them. Her nightgown had been raised all the way to her waist, and his face was lowering to the golden-red hair at the base of her belly. Giddily she wondered what he was doing, and an instant later found out.

  Rianne mewled and writhed at the touch of his tongue, but she couldn't escape the frenzy-making sensation. The hands holding to her thighs had the strength of steel, red- hot steel that burned through her skin. He was making her kick the air rather than him, and he still wasn't hurting her…

  But he was sending her into insanity! She moaned again as she tried to raise up to force him away, but those hands were tilting her back and not letting her up! She pounded the bed with fists of madness as his tongue slid around her cleft, her eyes squeezed shut as she fought not to cry. She needed him so badly now, but all he wanted to do was torture her.

  And then his tongue was gone, magically replaced by a shaft as hard as rock. The shaft was beginning to push into her, seeking the place of her greatest frenzy, just what she needed and where she needed it. Without stopping to think Rianne arched violently upward, meeting the downward push with a thrust of her hips that refused denial. Somewhere far away there was a brief flash of pain, unimportant and instantly buried under the explosion inside her. Rianne spasmed in the thick arms that had come to hold her, and the world tried to melt in an effort to match her mind.

  Complete unconsciousness never did come. Very slowly the humming satisfaction of her body eased, and she realized she lay panting in her husband's arms. The next thing she became aware of was that his shaft was deep inside her, gently stroking in and out. It felt so thick she had no idea how it had the room to move, not to mention bury itself to the hilt.

  "It looks to me as though you enjoyed the first taste of your husband," he murmured, bending his head to kiss her face. "The pain wasn't too much for you, was it?"

  "Pain?" she echoed, trying to remember, and then it came back to her. "Oh, yes, when you pushed inside. I guess I just didn't notice at the time."

  "Good," he murmured with a chuckle. "That was the way I wanted it. You may have had pain from others, but you'll never have it from me. How are you feeling now, little one?"

  Rianne wasn't quite sure about that, not with the way he continued to stroke her; the sensations caused by the movement were very distracting. She tried to move away from him as a means of solving the problem, but a gasp was forced from her as she stopped. Movement had quickly reminded her that his body still had possession of hers.

  "Mmm, that was nice," he said, moving his lips to the side of her throat. "Do it again, and if possible, harder."

  Rianne realized that she'd accidentally tightened her inner muscles around him, and the sensation hadn't been quite the same for her. He'd obviously enjoyed it, but in her case it had caused her eyes to widen. She didn't want to do it again, even if she could figure out how to do it on purpose, and then she made another unsettling discovery. The demanding desire that had so recently been shattered was beginning to build again, just as though nothing at all had been done.

  "No, I can't," she gasped, bringing her hands to his giant arms in a useless effort to move them. "I can't go through that again, so you'll just have to let me go."

  "What can't you go through again?" he asked, the motion of his hips slowly picking up speed. "You haven't actually experienced a thorough loving, so you still have that ahead of you. And wasn't that what you asked me to do? Make love to you?"

  "Yes, of course that's what I asked for," she answered, now desperate enough to squirm. "But you're making me feel that way again, and I can't stand it."

  "This time you'll find it easier," he said, reassurance in the eyes that had turned smoky-gray. "I'll work to satisfy your arousal even as it grows stronger, and try not to let it take you over as it did earlier. I hoped from the first instant I saw you that you'd find it impossible to resist the birth of your own passion. This time we'll flame together, and quench each other at the same time."

  "You did that to me deliberately?" Rianne whispered, the only sense she could make out of what he'd said. "You gave your word, then made that bet - and all the time you knew exactly what would happen?"

  "I was hoping, and my highest hopes came true," he said, as if that made any difference. "Now I'm going to finish making love to my wife on our wedding night, and she's going to respond to me just the way she did earlier."

  You can't do that to me again, she wanted to whisper, feeling betrayed not just by him, but also by herself. But the words refused to come, for despite everything she wanted him to continue. And then his hands were behind her head, holding her still for his kiss. Rianne fought her own feelings with all the strength she had left, but it wasn't nearly enough. His mouth enticed hers to respond, while his shaft stroked her in a way she couldn't resist or deny. Her mind might have felt betrayed, but her body wanted his thrusts, knowing them as the thing it craved. It didn't matter that he'd lied to her when she'd trusted him; she wouldn't have been able to walk away even if he'd released her.

  It took longer the second time, but the incredible frenzy eventually built to the point it couldn't go beyond. It exploded into shards instead, but the shards weren't only hers. The brute exploded at the same time to end his own frenzy, and when Rianne became aware of him again he was lying stretched out on the bed beside her. His arm was draped heavily across her waist, as though holding to what belonged to him completely, and Rianne hadn't the strength to move it. Absolute exhaustion was closing her eyes, but not before she remembered what he'd done. Right then she had to sleep, but once she woke up she would not forget again…

  Bryan waited until the girl was obviously and deeply asleep, then stroked the softness of her skin a bit before getting up to see to the lamps. Her magnificent hair was soaked in sweat and her body was only just beginning to cool, two ways in which he matched her perfectly. She'd given him the sort of wedding night he'd always dreamed about: without disappointment, and filled with a genuine eagerness for more of the same. She'd been so responsive it had felt like a fantasy come true, having beneath him a woman who could match him stride for stride.

  In the past the women he'd used had responded cautiously, those who hadn't been out-and-out frightened. For some men full satisfaction didn't depend on full response and abandon from their partners, but for him it did. Too often he'd ended up disappointed and frustrated, wishing the woman he'd shared his bed with hadn't been so timid. Now he'd found a woman who demanded everything he had to give, and magically, unbelievably, she was his wife.

  But she was also upset with him. Bryan slipped quietly back into the bed beside her, knowing he would have his hands full once she woke up. He'd used her own innocence against her to get what he wanted, and no matter how much pleasure she'd had she would not be quick to forgive him. Possibly he'd been unwise to tell her the truth just then, but that was the way she affected him. He wanted to tell her about everything he was doing and make her a part of it, which meant it was a good thing that his business with Harding would soon be over. Once it was, he would tell her all about it.

  And then she would blame him for that, too. He sighed as he rearranged the quilts to cover them both, then lay down and put his arm around her again. He'd save himself some trouble if he left both points to be covered at the same time, so that's what he would do. Just how he would handle it
all he didn't yet know in detail, but he still had his general plan. If it didn't work out, he would think of something else.

  It's too bad I had to put you through that, little one, he thought as he spread his hand against her middle and moved close. I could be ready for you again in no time, but you're too drained to wake up very soon. Well, that will change once you get used to being a man's wife, and tomorrow night will be better. And so will tomorrow in the morning, and in the afternoon, and…

  Bryan smiled as he fitted her against him, wishing that her nightgown wasn't still around her middle. But the thing belonged her, so it wasn't his place to take it. When he finally won her over, she would be the one who got rid of it. The first step in that would be gaining her trust, which wasn't likely to be easy. But he would do it, somehow, and then … and then…

  Chapter Eight

  Rianne awoke slowly, so that by the time her eyes were fully open all the comfort and satisfaction she'd felt were gone. She remembered everything that had happened before she'd fallen asleep, and the humiliation was almost too much to bear. To be made a fool of like that, to be tricked by someone she'd been stupid enough to trust…

  Someone. Rianne looked around the room. A single lamp burned low to keep full darkness at bay, showing her that she was alone. So he'd left without waking her, probably as soon as she'd fallen asleep. Well, why not? He'd already gotten what he'd wanted…

  Rianne sat up and put her face in her hands, trying to push away the idiot satisfaction her body felt. It shouldn't have been possible to feel that way, not with the kind of turmoil that was twisting her mind. It was impossible to understand how she could have wanted him that badly, how she could have responded to and desired a man without character or honor. He must have bewitched her in some way, but that didn't mean it wasn't still mostly her fault. She'd let herself forget that no one but Angus and Cam could be trusted, and now paid for that lapse with all the humiliation that was possible.

  But also with anger, the slow, seething kind that burned hotter than high-jumping flames. Her first objective still had to be escape, but if she ever found the chance to get even with that brute… It was more than time he learned what humiliation felt like, especially the sort you were helpless against…

  Thoughts of helplessness drove her from the bed, along with another point that added to her annoyance: she had no idea what time of day it was. Her cage had no windows, the lack of which was beginning to grate harder.

  But first things first. Her hands moved fast to rid her of the blue silk nightgown, and she left it puddled on the floor as she hurried to the wash basin. She could almost feel his hands and lips still on her, and that was the last thing she wanted just then. The memory of last night almost made her forget how much she hated the man, and she wasn't about to forget.

  Rianne managed a fairly thorough job of scrubbing herself from the basin before drying herself. After that she went to the wardrobe that held her clothes, and pulled out the first morning gown her hand touched. She would have preferred dressing in her breeches and shirt, but they and the boots hadn't been returned yet. As soon as they were, though…

  It was impossible to dress without help, a fact she had to admit by ringing for a maid. She had never had to do without a maid, which made her wonder how she would manage once she and Angus and Cam had made good their escape. They didn't have enough gold for her to hire a girl, but maybe -

  "You're an idiot," she muttered to herself once the maid was gone again, staring at her reflection in the vanity. "You can worry about who you will and won't hire once you're out of this room. Until that happens you're simply wasting your time. Stop dreaming and get to work."

  Which was easy enough to say, but not quite as easy to do. She sat at the vanity and brushed her hair, fully aware that the door had been locked again after the maid had left. Her thoughts had begun swinging from rage to depression and back again, making it a virtual certainty that the wrong emotion would emerge at exactly the wrong time. If she could only regain control of herself -

  A soft knock came at her door, intentionally unintrusive. She put down the hairbrush she'd been using, but otherwise didn't make a sound. She hated the false courtesy being given her, and wasn't yet able to force herself to pretend acceptance.

  No more than three heartbeats went by before the door opened again, and Mrs. Raymond came in. She carried Rianne's shirt and breeches and boots, and when she saw Rianne she smiled. The smile, however, didn't last long in the face of Rianne's own expression. Rianne was remembering what she'd seen in the wardrobe: other nightgowns all neatly arranged, nightgowns Mrs. Raymond had told her weren't there. Her gift from Angus had been fouled for no reason at all, and Rianne would never forget that - or forgive the lie.

  "Good morning, Mrs. Machlin," the woman tried, her tone going for friendliness. "It's a lovely morning, and Mr. Machlin is in your sitting room, waiting to share breakfast with you. I've brought back your things just as I said I would…"

  The woman let her words trail off as her forced smile died, finally admitting the weight of Rianne's stare. Her cheeks went red as though she'd been accused aloud of the lie she'd been caught in, and her dark gaze dropped away as she bit her lip. She knows exactly what I'm thinking, Rianne realized, but before the smaller woman could say anything else, he appeared behind her. His broad face was creased into a smile, and his big hands gently moved Mrs. Raymond aside. The small woman used that to her own advantage. As soon as she was no longer being stared at, she put down Rianne's clothing and boots and immediately left the room.

  "Good morning, wife," Machlin said as soon as Mrs. Raymond was gone, warmth softening his tone as he neared her. "I'm not surprised to see you looking as beautiful in pale gold as you do in blue or green. I've been waiting to thank you for the wonderful wedding night you gave me. I doubt if any other woman could have done as well."

  He bent to pull her off the vanity bench and into his arms, acting as though she had laughed and run to him as soon as he'd appeared. He was dressed in shirt and breeches and boots, but when his lips touched hers it was almost as if he were naked again, as if they both were. Rianne felt a shudder inside as part of her fought to return the kiss, while the rest tried to struggle wildly to escape. She'd never felt such insane confusion and didn't know how to deal with it, but the conflict had one blessed side effect. It held her motionlessly in place, so that after a moment the brute released her with a sigh.

  "I was afraid of that," he said, an odd sadness in the cold gray of his eyes. "We'll have to talk about this over breakfast. And I have something for you I think you'll like."

  His big hand touched fingertips to her face, and then he was urging her toward the sitting room with an arm about her shoulders. Rianne thought briefly about refusing to go, then abandoned the idea. The brute wasn't above carrying her out, and if that happened she'd probably fall into a foaming fit. It was a miracle it hadn't already happened…

  "Just sit right here and your breakfast will be brought to you," he said, guiding her into the same chair she'd used the night before. "Do you prefer tea in the morning, or coffee?"

  Rianne, who had never been in a coffeehouse or near a cup of the brew in her life, suddenly found herself distracted. It was said that those in America drank nothing but coffee, another point usually used to show how barbaric they were. She really ought to find out what the drink was like, since she would certainly have to get used to it…

  "Tea," she forced herself to say, at the same time raving silently, Stop daydreaming, or you won't need to know what coffee tastes like, you idiot! Pull yourself together right now, and don't even try to understand why being close to him scatters every thought in your head. Just remember that he's doing it to you on purpose, exactly the way he did last night!

  Embarrassed memories of the night before burned through Rianne, enough so that she was able to get something of a grip on herself. By then the brute was seated in his place across from her, and a serving man was putting a plate of food and
a cup of tea in front of her. Eggs, and a wedge of fresh bread with honey, and a chunk of ham.

  "For some reason, I'm starving," the brute said, a similar plate having been put in front of him. "After this you'll have to tell Cook what you prefer for breakfast, as well as what you want served at other times. As lady of the house, you can arrange things to suit yourself."

  Rianne watched him take a huge bite of bread before starting on his eggs, his loudly announced appetite keeping his full attention on his plate. It was amazing that he'd been able to keep away from the food long enough to make his casual comment about how much control she would have over his house…

  He really does consider me a fool, Rianne growled to herself, giving her own plate full attention. Buy the girl and do whatever you please to her, but don't worry about her temper. As soon as you tell her she's in charge of everything, she'll be simpering and smirking and eating out of your hand.

  The brute thought he could get away with playing games with her, but he didn't yet know the meaning of game-playing. It would be interesting to see how long it took to make him really regret his bargain with her stepfather…

  Bryan kept most of his attention on his plate, especially once Rianne began to eat from her own. He wanted some food in her before he tried to calm her down, before he tried to melt those eyes of green ice. Sarah had gone even before he'd brought Rianne into the sitting room, staying out of the line of fire just as she'd promised to do. For a brief moment Bryan envied her…

  But only for a very brief moment. Life had taught him that what was worth having was worth fighting for, even if it meant getting up early and sneaking around his own house like a thief. He'd had a stage to set before his new wife awoke, and a stage required carefully rehearsed players. He'd spent a lot of time with his people that morning, telling them exactly what he wanted, and now he was as ready as he could be.